


Hogwarts AU

by all_ships_are_my_otp



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-02 16:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11513244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_ships_are_my_otp/pseuds/all_ships_are_my_otp
Summary: The Hogwarts AU that nobody asked for! This takes place in the Harry Potter universe in around 2017. So, the Second Wizarding War (and therefore book 7) ended 20 years ago. Consequently, this has nothing to do with Harry Potter and the Gang.This is / will be a collection of loosely-related one shots, all set in the Hogwarts universe.This is a multi-chapter fic with an ongoing plot that loosely mirrors the show's plot.Richard, Jared, Dinesh and Gilfoyle are in their seventh year. Eventual Jared/Richard and Dinesh/Gilfoyle. They all have Potions together. In this AU, Potions is sort of like the programming of the wizarding world. Here are the House assignments:Gilfoyle: RavenclawDinesh: SlytherinRichard: GryffindorJared: Hufflepuff





	1. where Dinesh and Gilfoyle meet, try to hate each other, and fail

**Author's Note:**

> Dinesh and Gilfoyle are forced to be partners in Potions class. At first they hate each other. But they bond over their shared interest for the subject and begrudgingly end up respecting each other.
> 
> Time: Beginning of Seventh Year  
> Houses: Dinesh (Slytherin), Gilfoyle (Ravenclaw)  
> Pairing: Dinesh/Gilfoyle (friendship and pre-slash)

Dinesh loved Potions. They just made sense to him. He didn’t need to worry about memorizing complicated Latin spells or practicing correct wand technique. Potions were just a list of ingredients, a description of a final product, and careful, precise work in between. Potions were fascinating, widely applicable and incredibly powerful.

 

Another great aspect of Potions was that Dinesh could work alone. He didn’t really have many friends—his Housemates in Slytherin ridiculed his dream of becoming a Potions Master, citing it to be a lowly goal, unworthy of true Slytherin ambition. He told himself that he didn’t mind being an outcast, but it was annoying having to always be the odd pupil out that had to spar with their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Or having to do his homework alone in the library. Or having nobody to talk to during meals in the Great Hall.

 

So, when Professor Slughorn announced that all Year Seven Potions assignments were to be completed in pairs, Dinesh was pissed. When Slughorn announced that all marks would be awarded based on teamwork, Dinesh was even more pissed. And when Slughorn announced he himself would be choosing the pairs, flames erupted from Dinesh’s wand, scorching the bottom of his desk.

 

Slughorn started to list pairs of people. “Chugtai,” he said, “You’re with Gilfoyle.”

 

Of course he had to be paired with fucking Gilfoyle. Gilfoyle, the asshole that sat in the very back of Slughorn’s classroom, never paid attention, and yet somehow always brewed perfect potions. Gilfoyle, the former Prefect whose status had been revoked after he had been caught abusing his Prefect privileges to steal forbidden potion ingredients from Slughorn’s private cupboard. Gilfoyle, the Ravenclaw that the other Ravenclaws avoided like the plague, because apparently, he was “too smart—not the normal smart, the weird smart”.

 

“I’m not sitting in the front row,” Gilfoyle said firmly. Dinesh was pretty sure that was the first time he had ever heard him speak up in class.

 

“Yeah, well I’m not sitting in the very back of the classroom, asshole,” Dinesh retorted immediately, surprising himself. Usually he didn’t talk to other students unless he absolutely had to. He blamed his rude outburst on the fact that Slughorn had single-handedly managed to ruin his favorite class.

 

“Language, Mr. Chugtai! Five points from Slytherin. And go sit next to Mr. Gilfoyle.”

 

Dinesh grumbled as he levitated his belongings and reluctantly walked to Gilfoyle’s desk. Gilfoyle smirked at him.

 

“You’re such a fucking tool,” Dinesh angrily whispered to Gilfoyle as soon as he sat down. “The front row is the best place to sit. It’s closest to the ingredients cupboard.”

 

“Yeah, but it’s also closest to Slughorn’s desk. I don’t want that creepy slimeball watching my every move.”

 

“What do you have to hide?” Dinesh said, voice getting louder. “What, are you brewing illegal Polyjuice Potions on the side?”

 

“Mr. Chugtai, please be quiet. If I have to ask you again, it’ll be another five points,” Slughorn said sternly. Once he looked away, Gilfoyle stuck his tongue out at Dinesh.

 

“Mr. Dunn,” Slughorn continued. “Your partner will be Mr. Hendricks.”

 

“ _ASSHOLE,”_ Dinesh wrote in large, blocky letters on a spare piece of parchment.

 

“ _NERD,”_ Gilfoyle wrote, on the cover of Dinesh’s prized copy of _Advanced Potionmaking_. Dinesh glared at him as he snatched his book back and washed away the word with an ink-removing spell.

 

“Go ahead, write on my stuff,” Gilfoyle whispered, handing Dinesh his own battered textbook. “News flash, Chugtai. I don’t give a fuck.”

 

**

 

“Today, you will be brewing Veritaserum,” Slughorn announced, once he had finished reading off the list of partners. “Veritaserum is a high-maintenance potion, and therefore ideal for practicing brewing with a partner. Follow the instructions on page 386. At the end of class, you will turn in half of your potion for a grade, and test the other half on yourselves. So don’t screw up!” Slughorn’s laughter echoed off of the dungeon walls. All of the students in the Slug Club meekly laughed along.

 

Gilfoyle elbowed Dinesh. “Why aren’t you sucking up to Slughorn like all of the other Slug Club nerds?”

 

“You’re kidding right? As if I’d willingly go to one of their meetings. It’s just a bunch of people jerking each other off.”

 

Gilfoyle laughed.

 

“So, anyway, I should probably get the ingredients,” Dinesh said. “Can you start boiling the cauldron water?”

 

Gilfoyle nodded and lit a small flame under their cauldron with a flick of his wand.

 

When Dinesh returned, Gilfoyle was carefully running the blade of his Potions knife along a misshapen white stone, letting the white dust fall into their cauldron. The liquid inside was already a vibrant purple.

 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Dinesh asked furiously.

 

“Pure dragon tooth dust is a lot more potent than the shit they give us students,” Gilfoyle said. “It’ll make the final product a lot better. Trust me.”

 

“That’s pretty cool,” Dinesh said begrudgingly.

 

“I know. What’s next?”

 

“We have to stir counterclockwise eight times, then add in the chopped lizard tail,” Dinesh said at once. He already knew the recipe by heart, having brewed it once during his summer break for fun.

 

“I guess I’ll start chopping some lizard tails,” Gilfoyle said. “What size?”

 

“Quarter-inch cubes,” Dinesh said, as he started to stir the potion.

 

**

 

Forty-five minutes later, Dinesh added in a final drop of sea urchin venom, and their potion briefly turned silver before settling on a perfectly clear color. It would have been indistinguishable from water, if not for its slight shimmer. Gilfoyle extinguished the flame and poured the potion into three small vials.

 

They looked around the classroom. They were by far the first ones done.

 

“This whole partner work thing is so stupid,” Dinesh said. “Like, Veritaserum is complicated, but it’s not impossible to brew alone. I’ve brewed some before.”

 

“Seriously?” Gilfoyle asked, eyes widening. “When?”

 

“Oh, just during summer break. Just for fun, to see if I could do it.”

 

“Cool,” Gilfoyle said neutrally. “I wish I could brew Potions outside of Hogwarts.”

 

“Why can’t you?”

 

“I’m Muggleborn, and the bitch that is unfortunately my mother doesn’t let me keep magic shit around the house. Fucking Trace. I’m glad I’ll turn seventeen before Christmas.”

 

“That sucks,” Dinesh said sympathetically. “I can’t imagine going three whole months with no magic.”

 

“I still brew Potions at home,” Gilfoyle said. “Just not the ones that require wandwork. So, Veritaserum is out. But there are quite a few workarounds.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“You know how you usually have to cast a Bubble Head charm variant in order to contain the poisonous gas given off by a Calming Drought?” Gilfoyle started to explain, and Dinesh nodded. “Well, if you add in skunk hair, the gas disappears. Without affecting the potion.”

 

“That’s fucking awesome,” Dinesh said. “And I bet that also works for Healing Potions, right?”

 

“I never thought about that before,” Gilfoyle said, taken aback. “I guess it would.”

 

They continued to talk, sharing their Potions knowledge for a solid half hour before the other pairs of students were finished.

 

“Your potions should be finished by now,” Slughorn said. “Clean up your desks and give in a labeled sample of your potion to me. After that, you will be allowed to test your potions on yourselves.”

 

Dinesh gulped. He had completely forgotten that they would have to drink their own potions.

 

“Suddenly, I regret making our potion so potent,” Gilfoyle said, pulling out his wand and casting a quick nonverbal _Scourgify_ to clean their shared desk.

 

“Let’s just not say a word once we’ve had the potion,” Dinesh said. “We can cast Silencing Spells or something.”

 

“And whatever you do, do _not_ cast Silencing Spells,” Slughorn said. “I’ve set up anti Silencing Spells wards in this classroom for the duration of this lesson. It’s important that each of you experience the power of Veritaserum first-handedly. And remember—with Veritaserum, quantity and duration are closely linked. Don’t drink more than a drop or two. Otherwise, you’ll be spouting your embarrassing secrets all day.”

 

“I wish we hadn’t thrown away the extra dragon tooth solution,” Gilfoyle muttered. “Otherwise we could have diluted the potion.”

 

“Everyone!” Slughorn called. “Prepare to drink your potions! In three, two, one--”

 

Dinesh carefully let a few drops of the potion fall onto his tongue. They felt cool and tasted vaguely salty.

 

“Now, I am going to ask you all some simple questions,” Slughorn said. “Notice how you instinctively answer with the full truth. First: What is your name?”

 

“Dinesh Chugtai,” Dinesh said immediately. The words felt odd on his tongue, as if he were under the Imperius curse.

 

The classroom was too loud for him to recognize anybody else’s voice other than Gilfoyle’s.

 

“Bertram Gilfoyle,” he had said.

 

Dinesh couldn’t help but laugh. “Bertram, huh? What, did your parents want you to have a miserable childhood?”

 

“Honestly, I think they did,” Gilfoyle said. “I was never the obedient church-loving son they wanted me to be. Whenever I did accidental magic, they thought it was Satan trying to steal my soul. So they would punish me, which would upset me, and I’d end up doing more accidental magic. Things only got worse when I turned 11 and got my Hogwarts letter. I’m not sure how I would have survived if the Ministry’s Head of Muggle Affairs Mrs. Hermione Granger hadn’t stepped in, she basically saved my life you know, my parents were seriously considering abandoning me and putting me in the foster system, and holy shit, please ask me a simpler question, I don’t want to talk about my fucking pathetic past--”

 

However, Dinesh was tongue-tied, too stunned at Gilfoyle’s raw honesty to get a word out.

 

Luckily, Slughorn decided to ask the class a second question. “What is your most embarrassing memory?”

 

“Easy. Third Year,” Dinesh said, already cringing as he spoke, but unable to stop the word vomit coming out of his mouth. “I wrote this Fifth Year—Emilia—a really sappy love letter. Later, when we were in the Common Room, she walked right up to me and kissed me in front of a bunch of people. She told me she loved me, and I, being the dumbass I was, believed her, and said I loved her too. Then she laughed in my face, called me a loser and read the out loud to everybody in the Common Room. That was the last time I tried socializing with anybody in my House. But the worst part was after the fact, when I realized I didn’t enjoy the kiss at all, even though she was supposedly one of the prettiest girls in Slytherin. So that started a two year journey of me realizing I’m gay and shit this is really embarrassing--”

 

“My embarrassing memory is way worse, and way gayer,” Gilfoyle said, “and fuck, I think I might actually kill myself in shame after I’m done telling you this, but basically, this asshole who sleeps in the bunk bed above me cast a spell that replaced all the pages in my textbooks with gay porn. I acted disgusted at first, obviously. But when nobody was around, I got in the habit of jerking off to it. Once, he walked into the room while I was doing it. Fucking humiliating.”

 

“That’s nowhere near as bad,” Dinesh said. “My whole house was there to witness my embarrassing moment. But in yours, it was just one Ravenclaw asshole.”

 

“Yeah, but I was naked. That’s much worse.”

 

“I wonder what you look like naked--” Dinesh clasped a hand over his mouth. “Argh, fucking Veritaserum!”

 

“I do too,” Gilfoyle said. “Fuck. We need to stop talking about embarrassing shit. Um...what color are your robes?”

 

“Black,” Dinesh said. “What color are your robes?”

 

“Black,” Gilfoyle said. “What color are your robes?”

 

“Black, and this is really fucking stupid,” Dinesh said.

 

“Last question, before your potions should hopefully wear off,” Slughorn announced, and Dinesh and Gilfoyle both sighed in relief. “What is your happiest memory?”

 

“Brewing my first potion,” Dinesh and Gilfoyle said simultaneously.

 

“Whoa, I think you might be the first person I’ve ever met that gets me,” Dinesh blurted out. His thoughts were immediately being formed into words, now that his self-consciousness and sense of self preservation had effectively been disabled by the potion. “I think it’s really cool that you like potions too. I wish we could have met six years ago. That way I would have at least had one friend. Of course, that’s assuming you wouldn’t have hated me. Which is probably an unrealistic assumption, given the fact that nobody likes me.”

 

“I like you,” Gilfoyle said, still speaking quickly and earnestly. His dose had apparently not worn off yet. “I like brewing potions with you and talking with you. At first, I thought working with a partner in Potions was a fucking stupid idea, but now I’m glad that we’ll be working together for the rest of the year.”

 

Suddenly, Dinesh felt a warm, trickling feeling on his tongue. His dose of Veritaserum had worn off. _Fucking finally._

 

“Same,” Dinesh said, not because a potion was forcing him to, but because he meant it.

 

Gilfoyle jumped a bit in his chair. “My potion just wore off.”

 

“Mine too,” Dinesh said.

 

“So, our potion was really fucking strong, huh?”

 

“Yeah. We’ll each earn an O for sure.”

 

“I don’t give a fuck about marks. I just want to brew good potions.”

 

Suddenly, the clock tower bell rang, signaling the end of class.

 

“So, I have Arithmancy now,” Dinesh said awkwardly.

 

“Charms.”

 

“See you tomorrow in Potions, I guess?”

 

“See you then,” Gilfoyle said with a small smile.


	2. Cure for Burns (Part 1): Richard's idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slughorn gives the class a week-long assignment: brewing the Cure for Burns. The groups are supposed to just follow the instructions in the textbook. But Richard has an idea of a unique, creative way to brew the potion. However, it takes some words of encouragement from his potions partner Jared before he feels up to the task.
> 
> Time: Beginning of Seventh Year  
> Pairings: Richard/Jared (friendship and pre-slash)

“Good morning, class. I hope you all had enjoyable weekends,” Slughorn said in a tone much too cheerful for a Monday morning. “This week, you will be burning the Cure for Burns. This potion is complicated, so it will take you all week to complete. I expect you to hand in your submissions by the end of class on Friday.”

 

Richard felt his Potions partner—Dunn—gently prod him in the arm with a pointy elbow. Dunn smiled at him and pointed at his textbook, which he had already opened to the page about the Cure for Burns. Richard returned his smile awkwardly, then looked back to Slughorn.

 

Richard didn’t really know what to think of Dunn. He wasn’t particularly gifted at Potions, but he wasn’t horrible, either. He rarely spoke, but seemed too self-confident and poised to be shy. And he seemed to always go out of his way to help Richard—picking up dropped quills, fetching ingredients, giving him copies of his notes when he fell ill. That sort of thing.

 

Richard had once tried to explain Dunn’s strangeness to Monica during one of their study sessions in the Gryffindor common room.

 

“So, you’re basically saying he’s a stereotypical Hufflepuff?” Monica had said, laughing.

 

Richard didn’t have the words to describe how Dunn was _different_ somehow. So, he had awkwardly laughed along with her and dropped the subject.

 

“Now, before you begin brewing, let’s talk about theory,” Slughorn said. A few students groaned. “What are the applications of the Cure for Burns?”

 

Dunn’s hand shot into the air.

 

“Yes, Mr. Dunn?”

 

“The Cure for Burns heals burns on the skin caused by a spell such as _Incendio_ ,” Dunn said.

 

“Really? All fire spells?”

 

“Well, except Fiendfyre,” Dunn said.

 

“Good. And how does one use the Cure for Burns?”

 

“It only works if the patient both ingests the potion and applies the potion to the affected area in equal doses.”

 

“Correct. Two points to Hufflepuff,” Slughorn said. “I hope you were all taking notes. This is the type of information you need to know for your N.E.W.T.s.”

 

The students that had not been asleep scrambled for their quills.

 

“Any questions before you begin?” Slughorn asked. Chugtai raised his hand. “Yes, Mr. Chugtai?”

 

“What if we finish our potion early?”

 

“That’s impossible, Mr. Chugtai. The recipe in your book requires the potion to rest for seventy-two total hours. And that’s not counting the actual brewing time. You will definitely need the entire week.”

 

“But hypothetically speaking, let’s say that we don’t need the entire week,” Gilfoyle said. “If we turn our potion in early, can we skip class?”

 

“One point from Ravenclaw for speaking out of turn, Mr. Gilfoyle,” Slughorn said sternly. “And no. For the last time, class is, and will always be, mandatory. Any other questions?” Nobody raised their hand. “Good. Then begin.”

 

“I just finished copying down the ingredients list for the first part of the potion. I’ll go get them,” Dunn said, hurrying to the front of the classroom while clutching a piece of parchment.

 

Richard looked around the classroom. Most of the pairs were still reading the textbook, copying down ingredients and trying not to fall asleep. Dinesh and Gilfoyle had already started to brew something, but definitely wasn’t the assigned potion. Their cauldron was emitting alarming amounts of lime green smoke, which Dinesh was desperately trying to contain with some sort of Bubblehead Charm while Gilfoyle quickly added in various ingredients.

 

Dunn sat down. At least twenty different assorted bottles of magical ingredients that had been following the tip of his wand organized themselves on their shared desk.

 

For the two weeks that they had been Potions partners, Richard and Dunn had naturally settled into two distinct roles. Richard would take the lead, doing most of the actual Potions work. Dunn would fetch supplies, wordlessly chop ingredients, and regulate the cauldron temperature.

 

Today, however, Richard couldn’t bring himself to brew the Potion. It wasn’t that he disliked Potions—in fact, Potions was his favorite class by far. Rather, Richard disliked brewing Cure potions. Something felt off about them. They all had the same purpose, and yet Cure potions for different injuries had vastly different recipes. Why was it that the Cure for Boils was an elementary potion, but the Cure for Burns was N.E.W.T-level? It seemed like there should be a way to make a fundamental Cure base potion. Some sort of fundamental potion, that, when modified in some simple way, would produce a specialized Cure potion.

 

Richard had first come up with the idea when he was a Fifth Year, reviewing for his Potions O.W.L.s. He had been frustrated that the task of memorizing recipes for Cure potions was so laborious. Ever since then, Richard had been tweaking his fundamental Cure base potion. And it worked...sort of. He was able to produce the Cure for Boils by adding Bubotuber pus and vegetable oil, and the Cure for Bruises by adding wood shavings and dead grass blades. This was a huge success, considering the traditional recipes for those two potions were vastly different.

 

Richard wondered what ingredients he might have to add to his fundamental Cure base potion to produce the Cure for Burns. Was that even possible? Maybe he would have to tweak the base solution some more.

 

“Um, Hendricks? Are you feeling alright? We need to start brewing our potion soon if we want to stay on schedule,” Dunn said.

 

“Sorry,” Richard stammered, still slightly dazed from having been deep in thought, “I was just thinking.”

 

“Thinking about what?” Dunn asked.

 

“Just—it seems like brewing this potion should be easier, you know?”

 

“I never realized you thought this potion was difficult. Until now, I have only ever seen you brew with great facility.”

 

“No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, the recipe. It should be simpler,” Richard said, struggling to articulate his thoughts. “Think about it this way. It’s just a Cure potion, right? So, wouldn’t it make sense if they shared a common base?” Dunn nodded at him encouragingly. “I actually developed a prototype of the fundamental Cure base. The recipe for it is complicated, but I did get it working for two Cure potions. So, to make the Cure for Boils, I just take the fundamental base, and add in some extra ingredients. That’s it. No stirring, no complicated heating instructions.”

 

“That’s amazing,” Dunn breathed. “Richard—that could revolutionize the entire field of Healing.”

 

Richard squirmed at Dunn’s exuberant praise. “Yeah, but it only works for two potions. I haven’t got it working for the Cure for Burns. Let alone the thousands of other Healing potions that exist.”

 

“Well, how long does it take you to brew your Cure base potion?” Dunn asked.

 

“Not long. A couple of hours.”

 

“So how about we spend the week working on that? You can make the Cure for Burns the third potion to work with your base potion,” Dunn said excitedly.

 

“But what if it doesn’t work?” Richard said skeptically. “I mean, obviously I want to work on my potion. But I don’t want you to get a T for the week if I can’t figure it out. It took me three weeks to get the Cure for Bruises working.”

 

“Richard,” Dunn said, eyes shining. “You have an incredible talent for Potions and an amazing idea. Why shouldn’t it work?”

 

“If you’re really okay with taking this risk, then I’d love to give it a try,” Richard said shyly.

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“Okay then,” Richard said firmly. “First things first, we need to brew the fundamental base. Lots of it. If we finish the first half today, we should hopefully be able to have it done by tomorrow.”

 

“Should I fetch extra ingredients for that?”

 

“Yeah, go get dragon scale power and snake skin,” Richard said, as he began to pour ingredients into the cauldron.

 

And just like that, they slipped back into their old routine—Richard creating, Dunn assisting. Richard also noticed that Dunn was transcribing the recipe onto a spare piece of parchment, writing down every little detail in tiny neat print.

 

“Just in case you need a physical reference for later,” Dunn had explained.

 

“Oh. Good idea. Thanks.”

 

When Slughorn announced that class would be over soon and that they should start cleaning up, Richard felt himself breaking out of a sort of trance. He couldn’t believe how quickly the time had passed. Working on making his dream a reality was exhilarating.

 

He looked at Dunn and couldn’t help but grin.

 

“Hey, um, Dunn?”

 

“Yes, Richard?”

 

“Thanks for believing in me,” Richard said.

 

“No, thank you for being amazing and not doubting yourself,” Dunn said, and Richard squirmed again, because that was the most Hufflepuff way he could have responded. “Oh, and Richard? You know, you can call me by my first name. Jared. If you like.”

 

“Okay, um, Jared,” Richard said, and Jared beamed at him.

 

The clock tower bell rang, and Richard went to his next class, but all he could think about was Cure potions, the distant possibility of actually achieving his dream, and Jared’s unfiltered optimism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I think this is the most gen thing I've ever written. XD It's setting up plot points more than anything else. The cute relationship-y stuff is coming eventually.
> 
> Next chapter is called " _Five increasingly absurd ways to brew a Cure for Burns Potion (aka Dinesh and Gilfoyle dicking around in Potions class)_ ". It's Dinesh/Gilfoyle, and it's going to be ridiculous. XD


	3. Cure for Burns (Part 2): Five increasingly absurd ways to brew a Cure for Burns Potion (aka Dinesh and Gilfoyle dicking around in Potions class)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slughorn gives the class a week-long assignment: brewing the Cure for Burns. But, Dinesh and Gilfoyle finish it on the first day. To entertain themselves, they come up with increasingly ridiculous ways to brew the potion. Featuring: blindfolds, firewhisky, hangovers, wacky hijinks, and the occasional bouts of feels.
> 
> Time: Seventh Year  
> Pairings: Dinesh/Gilfoyle (slash, but they haven't admitted it to themselves yet XD)

* * DAY 1 * *

 

“This is such bullshit,” Dinesh whispered to Gilfoyle as Slughorn droned on about the properties of the Cure for Burns. “I can’t believe Slughorn is forcing us to go to class every day this week. With your skunk hair trick, we’ll be able to cut the brewing time in half and be done by Wednesday.”

 

“Wait, you wanted to use the skunk hair trick? I hadn’t even thought of that. I thought we were going to use your modified Bubblehead charm to speed up things.”

 

They looked at each other and grinned.

 

“If we combine both techniques, we might even be able to finish the potion today,” Dinesh said.

 

Giloyle ran off to get supplies and Dinesh started to prep the cauldron.

 

One hour later, they were finished. Sure, they had nearly killed themselves with poisonous green gas (a side product they hadn’t encountered before). But now, the potion seemed to be quite docile. Its color certainly matched the picture of the Cure for Burns in the textbook.

 

“Hey Chugtai. Do you think this scent qualifies as ‘burnt rubber’? That’s apparently what it’s supposed to smell like.”

 

Dinesh sniffed their potion thoughtfully. “I’d say so.”

 

“Then we did it. Fuck yeah.”

 

“So, do you want to go hand this in to Slughorn?” Dinesh asked, grabbing a nearby empty vial.

 

“No. Wait. There’s no way he’ll believe us. If we turn in our potion now, he’ll probably think we cheated,” Gilfoyle said. “Remember the flobberworm incident?”

 

Dinesh indeed remembered the flobberworm incident.

 

“Okay, so what do you suggest we do for the rest of the week? Just sit here and dick around?”

 

“You said that sarcastically, but I see that as a viable option.”

 

“We can’t just sit here, though. We have to be brewing the Cure for Burns. Otherwise Slughorn will get suspicious.”

 

“Well, I’m not brewing four more cauldrons of this stuff,” Gilfoyle said. “It was boring enough the first time around.”

 

“I have an idea,” Dinesh said slowly. “How about we brew the potion, but we have to adhere to certain restrictions. Like not being allowed to stir the cauldron, or being blindfolded or something.”

 

“Dibs on the blindfolded challenge,” Gilfoyle said at once. Dinesh looked at him incredulously. “I’ve always wanted to try that out,” Gilfoyle explained.

 

“Well, I like being able to see, so feel free to do that one,” Dinesh said.

 

“Don’t worry,” Gilfoyle said, grinning evilly. “I’ll think of something else for you.”

 

* * DAY 2 * *

 

“Do you really think you can do this?” Dinesh asked warily, eyeing the ridiculous amount of ingredients Gilfoyle had arranged on their desk. “I mean, wandless brewing is difficult enough. And on top of that, you want to be blindfolded?”

 

“Fuck yes. I even skipped Transfiguration to masturbate right before this class. It heightens one’s sense of smell, you know.”

 

“There is no way that’s a thing,” Dinesh said, laughing.

 

“Sure it is. For instance--” Gilfoyle leaned forward. He pressed his nose against Dinesh’s lower neck and inhaled deeply. “You smell like parchment, brownies and cast iron cauldrons.”

 

“That’s...oddly specific,” Dinesh said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

 

“Yeah, and also extremelyaccurate,” Gilfoyle stated matter-of-factly. “This way, I’ll be able to recognize potion ingredients by smell. _”_

 

“Okay, do you want me to blindfold you now?” Dinesh asked, readying his wand and a piece of thick blue cloth.

 

“Go for it.”

 

“ _Obscuro,”_ Dinesh cast, and the blue cloth wrapped itself tightly around Gilfoyle’s head.

 

Gilfoyle immediately started sniffing the assortment of ingredients before grabbing the pre-diced lizard legs and dumping them into the cauldron.

 

Dinesh couldn’t help but grin. “This is really fucking funny to watch,” he admitted. “But just so you know, the second something goes wrong and your potion starts emitting poisonous gas or something, I’m taking that blindfold off. I don’t want you fucking dying over some stupid bet.”

 

**

 

“Merlin’s Beard,” Dinesh said in awe. “I can’t believe you actually did it.”

 

“Merlin is a poser and doesn’t deserve to be revered by all of wizardkind,” Gilfoyle said flatly. “Morgan le Fay was the real sorceress. We should be worshiping her.”

 

“Wait, what? Actually, never mind. I probably don’t want to know.”

 

“Anyway,” Gilfoyle said. “I think I have an idea as to how you should brew tomorrow’s potion.”

 

“Oh, really?” Dinesh asked, hoping Gilfoyle couldn’t detect the nervousness in his voice. “What is it?”

 

Suddenly, the bell rang.

 

“Oh, no,” Gilfoyle said mockingly. “Looks like we’re out of time. Guess I can’t tell you my idea.”

 

“Come on, Gilfoyle!” Dinesh whined. “You have to tell me in advance. You knew your challenge in advance!”

 

Gilfoyle just stuck his tongue out at Dinesh before hurrying out to his next class.

 

Dinesh sighed. _Fucking Gilfoyle._

 

* * DAY 3 * *

 

“Firewhisky?” Dinesh hissed incredulously. “You want me to drink fucking firewhisky? How did you even get this stuff? I thought you were still sixteen.”

 

“I am. I got it from the kitchens.”

 

“You do realize we could be expelled for having this stuff in Hogwarts. Let alone drinking it in class!”

 

“Well, then drink up,” Gilfoyle said. “That way there won’t be any firewhisky left to get in trouble for.”

 

“You expect me to chug an entire fucking bottle? I haven’t even had butterbeer before!”

 

“You’ll be fine. Firewhisky isn’t poison, it just loosens you up a bit. I’ve brewed potions drunk before and survived. Besides, I can always intervene if you’re about to majorly fuck up.”

 

Dinesh thought for a moment. “Fine,” he said. “But I’m only doing this because I know you’ll call me a pussy if I don’t.”

 

“Such bravery,” Gilfoyle said mockingly. Dinesh flipped him off. “Okay I’ll go and distract Slughorn while you drink. Then, vanish the bottle or something. Signal me when you’re done.”

 

Dinesh nervously watched Gilfoyle walk over to Slughorn. Once Slughorn was reasonably engrossed in whatever conversation they were having, Dinesh raised the bottle to his lips and drank. The firewhisky burnt his throat but felt warm in his stomach. When he was done, he vanished the bottle and stuffed it into Gilfoyle’s schoolbag.

 

He made eye contact with Gilfoyle, who abruptly ended his conversation with Slughorn and walked back to their desk.

 

“This stuff fucking burns,” Dinesh complained, voice slightly hoarse. “You’re telling me people drink this for fun?”

 

“Give it a minute to kick in. In the meantime, you should probably start brewing your potion.”

 

“Right. Potions,” Dinesh said, grabbing a knife and some lizard legs. “So, um, what’s it like? Being drunk?”

 

Gilfoyle laughed. “You’ll find out soon enough. It’s just a chemical reaction. Depending on the biochemistry of your brain and your blood alcohol level, you’ll either be a happy drunk, obnoxious drunk, sad drunk, aggressive drunk, clingy drunk...”

 

Suddenly, Dinesh felt dizzy and lightheaded. The lizard tails he was trying to chop kept jumping in and out of focus, so he closed his eyes for a moment. That turned out to be a mistake—all of a sudden, Dinesh’s head spun, and he felt like he was plummeting toward the ground on an out-of-control broomstick. He grabbed onto the nearest solid object for support. Which happened to be Gilfoyle’s arm. As Dinesh leaned closer to Gilfoyle’s warmth, scooting his chair closer to Gilfoyle’s until their sides were practically pressed together, the feelings of dizziness subsided.

 

Slowly, Dinesh opened his eyes. Gilfoyle was staring at him.

 

“I guess you’re a clingy drunk, then,” Gilfoyle muttered.

 

“What? Me? Fuck no!” Dinesh said. His voice rang in his ears. Was he yelling or something? Or talking too quietly? It was hard to tell.

 

“Now you’re hugging me even tighter,” Gilfoyle pointed out, but he made no effort to release himself from Dinesh’s grip.

 

“I need to hold onto something,” Dinesh said. “Otherwise I get dizzy and feel like I’m falling.”

 

“Well, how about you hold onto that cauldron? Remember, you’re supposed to be brewing a potion.”

 

“Oh yeah,” Dinesh said slowly. He left one arm wrapped around Gilfoyle’s waist and waved his wand using the other. “ _Summoning Charm._ Wait, fuck, I said that in English, right? But spells are in Latin. Ha. Ha. _Accio_.”

 

Despite Dinesh’s extremely impaired physical and mental condition, his potion-brewing skills seemed to be more or less intact. Having gone through the recipe for the Cure for Burns multiple times, he was able to brew the potion more or less automatically.

 

One step required Dinesh to add troll blood until the potion turned a precise shade of blue. But his chair was just barely too short for him to see the color of his potion properly, and his legs felt too shaky to stand. So obviously, Dinesh’s drunk brain decided that the logical solution was to simulate a short-term boost in height by sitting on Gilfoyle’s lap.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?”

 

“I’m looking at the color of the potion,” Dinesh explained, wondering why Gilfoyle was asking such obvious questions.

 

“No, I mean why are you sitting on my lap. My legs are falling asleep.”

 

“I’m sitting in your lap?” Dinesh asked confusedly. He turned around, and sure enough, he was sitting in Gilfoyle’s chair. On top of Gilfoyle. Whose complexion was a shade redder than usual. “Oh, shit. I am. That’s weird. I didn’t even notice.”

 

“Well, get off me, asshole,” Gilfoyle said gruffly, gently sliding Dinesh off his lap and back onto his own chair.

 

Dinesh yelped. This drew the attention of a few students, and—more unfortunately—Slughorn.

 

“Mr. Chugtai. Mr. Gilfoyle. How is your potion coming along?” Slughorn asked sharply, making his was over to their desk.

 

“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” Dinesh said loudly. “I’m working.”

 

Slughorn seethed. “Excuse me?”

 

“He was just talking to me,” Gilfoyle said calmly. “Because, Chugtai is, um, extremely concerned about his grade in this assignment.”

 

“No, I was talking to Slughorn,” Dinesh told Gilfoyle. “I mean, I guess you sometimes act like an asshole too, but you just pretend. Actually I think you’re mmmmph--”

 

Gilfoyle clasped a hand over Dinesh’s mouth. “You’ll have to excuse him, Professor,” he said. “He has been feeling quite ill today. Despite that, our potion is doing just fine. We just finished stirring in the troll blood.”

 

Slughorn eyed their potion critically. “The color is adequate,” he said begrudgingly.

 

“What are you talking about?” Dinesh blurted out. “The color is fucking perfect.”

 

“Five points for language, Mr. Chugtai,” Slughorn said. “And five more points for cheekiness.”

 

“Wait, are you giving me five points, or taking them away? Your wording was kind of unclear,” Dinesh said.

 

“Make that ten points for cheekiness,” Slughorn said. “I really don’t know what has gotten into you, Mr. Chugtai. Perhaps Mr. Gilfoyle has been a bad influence on you. Maybe it would be for the best if I separated you two--”

 

“No!” they said simultaneously. Dinesh wrapped his arms around Gilfoyle’s torso in a tight hug.

 

“What we mean is,” Gilfoyle said, blushing slightly, subtly trying to unhook Dinesh’s arms from his torso (to no avail). “We are an effective team, and we’ve put a lot of effort into our potion. I guarantee you that we will turn in a perfectly brewed Cure for Burns by the end of the week.”

 

“Very well,” Slughorn said. “But if your potion has even the slightest flaw, I will seriously consider separating you two. This is a N.E.W.T.-level class, not a playground.”

 

Another student raised their hand, and Slughorn walked over to their desk to answer their question. As soon as Slughorn’s back was turned, Gilfoyle breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“Not only are you a clingy drunk, you also had to be a stupid drunk,” Gilfoyle said bitterly.

 

“Sorry,” Dinesh said. “On firewhisky, my brain seems to be, like, super delayed. I’ll do a thing, and five minutes later, realize, ‘oh hey, that thing you did? It was stupid’.”

 

Gilfoyle laughed. “Good thing we already brewed a perfect Cure for Burns on Monday. Otherwise I would have been concerned about Slughorn separating us.”

 

Suddenly aware of the fact that he had been hugging Gilfoyle the entire time, Dinesh let go of him. Immediately, the light-headedness and dizziness returned.

 

“That would have been the worst,” Dinesh mumbled.

 

“Yeah. The worst.”

 

* * DAY 4 * *

 

“Fuck you, fuck firewhisky, and fuck life,” Dinesh said, flipping Gilfoyle off as he sat down.

 

“Good morning to you, too,” Gilfoyle said cheerfully.

 

“I feel like shit,” Dinesh groaned. “Why couldn’t somebody have invented and popularized an alcoholic drink that doesn’t cause hangovers?”

 

“Wait,” Gilfoyle said slowly. “You’re telling me you didn’t take a hangover prevention potion last night?”

 

“How was I supposed to know that? Yesterday was my first time!”

 

Gilfoyle raised an amused eyebrow at him.

 

“Ugh, not that type of first time. Asshole. You know, my first time drinking _you know what_.”

 

“Well, we could make a hangover cure right here,” Gilfoyle said. “But since we don’t have any firewhisky, we’ll have to brew the long recipe. It will take most of the class period to complete.”

 

“At least I’ll have something to get me though the rest of the day,” Dinesh said. “I was extremely lucky that Potions was my last class yesterday.”

 

“Okay. I’ll get supplies.”

 

**

 

Gilfoyle ended up doing all of the brewing. Since Dinesh was unfamiliar with the recipe, and Gilfoyle seemed happy doing things on his own, Dinesh settled for watching Gilfoyle work and trying to forget about his throbbing headache.

 

“I’m sorry that I didn’t come up with a cool dare for you to do today,” Dinesh said. “I know brewing some dumb hangover potion probably wasn’t what you had in mind.”

 

“It’s fine. Actually, I’ve been feeling like shit today as well.”

 

“Oh really? Why?”

 

“My girlfriend Tara broke up with me.”

 

“Wait, what? I thought you were gay.”

 

“Because she found out I was gay.”

 

Dinesh winced. “Sorry.”

 

“I suppose she was right. I didn’t have feelings for her.”

 

“So why are you upset?”

 

Gilfoyle bristled. “She was the closest thing I had to a friend, okay? Except you, obviously.”

 

“Well, you can still be friends.”

 

“Not really. We never really talked much. Our relationship was primarily based on us making out.”

 

“Well that’s dumb,” Dinesh said immediately. “If you barely knew each other, then I’d say you never really had a relationship to begin with. You should have called it something else. Like...an intimacy pact. That’s a more accurate description.”

 

Gilfoyle laughed. “An intimacy pact, huh? Sounds kinky.”

 

Dinesh’s cheeks and ears turned a deep scarlet. “Shut up. I didn’t mean it like that. Look, I’m obviously no relationship expert.”

 

“You’re right, though.”

 

“Good? I guess?”

 

Gilfoyle didn’t respond, instead grabbing some bat eyes. He began to mince them.

 

“You said you hated eating in the Great Hall, right?” Gilfoyle asked neutrally.

 

“I wouldn’t say I hate it,” Dinesh said diplomatically. “But I certainly don’t enjoy it.”

 

“You know, I haven’t eaten in the Great Hall since Year 4,” Gilfoyle said. “It’s loud. Crowded. All the good food is gone before I can get seconds. Eating in the Kitchens is much nicer. You could come eat there with me. If you like.”

 

“I don’t know,” Dinesh said. “I’d feel awkward eating next to a bunch of weird Ravenclaws I don’t even know.”

 

“No, it would just be me,” Gilfoyle said. “I eat alone.”

 

“Oh, in that case, totally,” Dinesh said.

 

“Cool. Let’s meet at the fruitbowl painting at six.”

 

“Cool,” Dinesh echoed.

 

**

 

He arrived at the fruitbowl painting at ten minutes until six. Gilfoyle was already waiting there.

 

“Hey,” Dinesh said, wondering why his stomach was suddenly lurching. Up until now, the hangover cure that Gilfoyle had made had been working perfectly.

 

“Hey,” Gilfoyle said back.

 

It was weird seeing Gilfoyle outside of Potions class. Dinesh didn’t know what to say.

 

“So, um, how do you get into the kitchens then?”

 

“You have to tickle the pear. Like this.”

 

Dinesh watched as Gilfoyle gently stroked the portrait. All of a sudden, two walls slid apart, revealing a passageway. Dinesh could already tell by the scent—an odd mixture of toast, brisket and chocolate—that it led directly to the kitchens.

 

“Now, you just tell a House Elf what you want, and they’ll bring it to you. I usually sit over there,” Gilfoyle said, pointing to a nearby table.

 

Suddenly, there was a loud _CRACK._ A House Elf had apparated in front of them.

 

“Agh!” Dinesh jumped. “I know House Elves can apparate inside of Hogwarts...but that still freaked me the fuck out.”

 

Gilfoyle snickered.

 

The House Elf bowed, then spoke: “Would you like anything to eat, Sir?”

 

“Do you have pizza?” Dinesh asked. The House Elf nodded. “Okay, then could I have a Hawaiian Pizza, please?”

 

“Pepperoni,” Gilfoyle said, and the House Elf disapparated.

 

“You seriously like pineapple on your pizza? That’s pretty much universally regarded as a bad culinary decision.”

 

“Yeah, well I think it tastes good,” Dinesh said. “So fuck you and your bullshit culinary opinions.”

 

“It’s not an opinion. It’s a fact. Pizza is salty, greasy and delicious. Pineapple is sweet, sour and watery. Why would anybody mix the two?”

 

“Because the contrast is what makes it taste good. Anyway, it’s not as if pepperoni is any less disgusting.”

 

They argued about each other’s food preferences for a while, before the conversation naturally moved on to other topics. They talked about potions, they talked about their lives, they argued about random bullshit. It felt like just another Potions lesson.

 

“We should probably go,” Gilfoyle said, eyeing a few House Elves carrying comically tall stacks of plates to the back of the kitchen. “It looks like dinner is over.”

 

Dinner at Hogwarts usually ended at 8pm. Had they really been talking for two hours? Usually, when Dinesh attempted to socialize with others, the minutes would drag on. He’d be lucky to survive fifteen minutes without feeling like he was about to have a nervous breakdown or die of boredom. But two hours with Gilfoyle had just flown by.

 

“Okay,” Dinesh said, standing up. “See you at breakfast tomorrow, I guess?”

 

It took him a second to realize what he had just said. “Um—I mean—only if you—”

 

“Sure. I usually come here fifteen minutes before my first class.”

 

Dinesh let out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Good. So...see you then.”

 

* * DAY 5 * *

 

“So, last night I had this crazy idea for a new brewing technique,” Dinesh said through a mouthful of toast. “Do you want to try it out today in potions?”

 

“Of course. What is it?”

 

“Okay,” Dinesh said, swallowing the remains of his toast before continuing. “So, I was thinking. Typically, when you brew a potion, you have a list of ingredients, say A through Z. You add in A, then B, so B reacts with A. Then you add in C, which reacts with the mixture of A and B. And so on. In other words, the brewing process is top-down, right?”

 

Gilfoyle nodded and took another bite of cereal.

 

“So, my idea is: Instead of brewing top-down, you brew middle-out. You add in the middle ingredient, say M. Then you simultaneously add in L and N, then K and O, then shit, I don’t know the alphabet backwards that well, but you get the idea. It’s like a chain reaction, going both ways, so the brewing process is way faster.”

 

Gilfoyle nodded slowly. “I see. So it’s as if the potion ingredients are lined up, and they react back and forth. Like a guy simultaneously jerking off two dicks with one hand.”

 

“Yeah, exactly,” Dinesh said, completely unfazed by Gilfoyle’s comparison.

 

“This sounds promising. Let’s do it.”

 

**

 

Dinesh’s brewing technique required meticulous preparation, but the actual brewing process was surprisingly simple. His middle-out technique allowed them to skip most of the steps involving stirring and waiting. As a result, brewing a cauldron of the Cure for Burns only took them a little over a half an hour.

 

“I can’t believe middle-out actually fucking worked,” Dinesh breathed.

 

Gilfoyle inspected their potion. “This might actually be more potent than the potion we made on Monday. I think we should give Slughorn this one.”

 

“Seriously?” Dinesh grinned.

 

“I’m not one to gush, but the possibilities of your new brewing technique are darkly promising.”

 

“This is so fucking cool,” Dinesh said excitedly, bouncing slightly in his seat. “I actually invented a new brewing technique! Like, holy shit. We could make tens of thousands of Galleons. Or even rewrite Potions textbooks.”

 

They talked about possible applications of middle-out, pretending to be working on their potion whenever Slughorn turned a suspicious eye in their direction. A few minutes before the end of class, Slughorn arrived at their desk to inspect their potion.

 

Slughorn’s lips formed a tight line as he eyed their cauldron. He inspected the color, scent, viscosity, then tested it on some pre-prepared samples of burnt human skin.

 

“I said I would separate you two if your potion had even the slightest flaw. After all, with your constant chattering and bickering, it only seemed natural to assume that you would at one point become distracted, make a mistake and ruin the potion.” Slughorn smiled wryly. “However, this happens to be one of the finest samples of the Cure for Burns I have ever seen. Each of you will get an O in this assignment. Clearly, you work well together. As long as you maintain this level of quality, I will allow you two to continue being Potions partners.”

 

As soon as Slughorn moved on to the next desk, Dinesh turned to Gilfoyle and smiled widely.

 

“I don’t see what you’re so excited about,” Gilfoyle said flatly. “It’s just a grade. We always get O’s.”

 

“No, dumbass, I don’t give a fuck about grades. The only thing that matters is that we ace our N.E.W.T.s, which we will. I was excited about—you know—Slughorn letting us still be potions partners.”

 

“Oh. That.”

 

“Don’t pretend like you weren’t worried either,” Dinesh said.

 

Gilfoyle shrugged. “It’s not as if he would have ever found a flaw in our potion. Even the shit soup you brewed while you were drunk on firewhisky would have been enough for an O.”

 

Dinesh glanced at the other pairs of students—some of whom were still desperately trying to finish their potions. He couldn’t believe that before he had met Gilfoyle, he would have rather been paired with any one of them. He couldn’t even remember why he had enjoyed Potions class before being paired with Gilfoyle in the first place.

 

“Hey, Chugtai? Are you awake? Class is over. It’s lunchtime. We can go to the kitchens now.”

 

“It's Dinesh,” Dinesh said suddenly. “You’re basically my best friend. You should call me by my first name.”

 

“Fine, _Dinesh_ ,” Gilfoyle said. “Just as long as you don’t call me Bertram. Now, on to more important issues: Food. Let’s get it. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, Richard/Jared and Dinesh/Gilfoyle finally interact. Richard learns about middle-out, has a flash of inspiration, and then more things happen... :)))
> 
> Also expect an Amortentia chapter in the distant future. Because I love that trope XD
> 
> That being said...for the next few weeks, I'll be a lot busier. Unfortunately, I won't have much time to write ;( So I'm not abandoning this story, I'll get back to it eventually.


	4. Middle-out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared suggests that Richard, Jared, Dinesh, and Gilfoyle join forces and work on Richard's idea together. However, they don't immediately get along.

“So, last night I was thinking more about middle-out,” Gilfoyle told Dinesh, slightly out of breath. They were walking to Potions, which was located in the underground dungeons. For some reason, the journey involved climbing five consecutive flights of stairs.

 

“Specifically?” Dinesh asked.

 

“Well, the basic idea is to decrease the brewing time by running it in parallel. That would entail splitting the potion ingredients in two halves, and performing middle-out on each of them. So if the full recipe requires ingredients A-Z, then you’d do middle-out on A-L and M-Z, then combine the two products in the end. But, you’d somehow have to make sure the byproducts aren’t toxic. And that is a non-trivial task.”

 

“That’s an interesting idea,” Dinesh said thoughtfully. “We should run some experiments during Potions today.”

 

“Let’s hope that Slughorn assigns us an easy potion. That way we’ll have plenty of time left over for middle-out.”

 

**

 

Gilfoyle groaned. “You have got to be fucking kidding me. Groups of four?”

 

Slughorn continued to explain the assignment: “You will be working in these larger groups for the next three class periods. The purpose of this is to learn how to brew in a real-life laboratory setting, where you may be collaborating with many different people.”

 

“Yeah, but what if we don’t need to collaborate with many people, asshole?” Dinesh muttered. Gilfoyle snickered.

 

“Now, I will form the groups,” Slughorn announced, scanning the classroom. His gaze locked on Hendricks, who was sitting at his desk alone. “Hendricks? Where is your partner?”

 

“Um, well you see, my partner is absent,” Hendricks said quietly. “He said that he was, um, sick.”

 

“Sick, you say?” Slughorn said, narrowing his eyes. “Then why didn’t Madam Pomfrey alert me of his absence?”

 

“Um, I don’t know, Sir. Ja—I mean Dunn just told me to tell you he was sick.”

 

“Oh!” Slughorn’s eyebrows shot up. “You see, I had forgotten that Dunn was your partner, m’boy. Let’s see...this means you will have to work in a group of three today. Go work with Chugtai and Gilfoyle.”

 

Hendricks turned around in his chair to look for Dinesh and Gilfoyle. His face and ears were beet red, probably from being singled out by Slughorn. Dinesh glanced at Gilfoyle, who was giving Hendricks a glare that clearly said _We sure aren’t as hell moving to your desk so get the fuck over here._

 

Hendricks gathered his things with a hasty Levitating Charm, then walked to the back of the classroom. Gilfoyle made no attempt to make room for him, so Dinesh had to move his chair closer to Gilfoyle’s in order to accommodate Hendricks.

 

Once Slughorn finished assigning groups, he explained their task for the day: brewing a Warmth Potion.

 

Gilfoyle flipped through Dinesh’s Potions textbook until he found the recipe. His eyes darted down the page, scanning the instructions. “Look at this, Dinesh. It’s ridiculously easy. This will be a great test case for trying parallel middle-out.”

 

Dinesh scanned the instructions. “Okay,” he said, turning to Hendricks. “So, Gilfoyle and I can take care of this in fifteen minutes. Just sit here and pretend you’re chopping.”

 

“We don’t have to deal with intruders, and you get an easy O. Everybody wins,” Gilfoyle said. “I’ll get the ingredients.”

 

“Um, actually, it says the brewing time is ninety minutes,” Richard said, pointing to the relevant sentence in the textbook.

 

Dinesh ignored him and instead began to prepare the cauldron for middle-out. Gilfoyle returned with ingredients and started to shred the shrew intestines.

 

“What are you doing?” Hendricks said. “You don’t need those until step 20.”

 

“Shut the fuck up, Gryffindor. We know what we’re doing,” Gilfoyle said.

 

Hendricks huffed and furrowed his eyebrows.

 

Dinesh and Gilfoyle continued to work on the potion, ignoring Hendricks’ occasional “You’re doing it wrong!” comments. Fifteen minutes later, they were done as promised.

 

“Wait, what the fuck?” Hendricks said. “This is the potion. This is the fucking potion. How did you do that?”

 

“Told you,” Dinesh smirked.

 

“But...that’s theoretically impossible. It violates the fundamental Laws of Potions! This has to have been a trick. You probably brewed the potion beforehand. And switched the cauldrons when I wasn’t looking.”

 

“We didn’t cheat. This was legit,” Gilfoyle said. “The fundamental Laws of Potions assume linear brewing order. We went ahead and ignored that requirement.”

 

“What do you mean, you ignored linear brewing order? That’s the most fundamental part of brewing. How else are you supposed to do it?”

 

“Middle-out,” Gilfoyle said. “Well, technically, this was parallel middle-out. But the concept is the same.” Gilfoyle launched into a technical explanation of the details of middle-out.

 

“Basically, it’s a fucking awesome way to dramatically decrease the brewing time of most potions,” Dinesh said smugly. “Oh yeah, and the best part? We invented it.”

 

Hendricks didn’t say anything for a moment, lost in thought. Then, he finally spoke: “Holy shit!”

 

“Yeah, we know we’re amazing. You don’t have to start sucking our dicks,” Gilfoyle said.

 

“What? No. I was thinking about my idea. I think middle-out is the key to getting my fundamental Cure base potion to work.”

 

Dinesh and Gilfoyle looked at him dumbfoundedly, and Hendricks hastily elaborated.

 

“Um...so, we all know how the brewing processes for different Cure potions are extremely different, right? So, my idea is to brew one Cure base potion. Then you add in one simple ingredient, and it almost instantly brews into a particular Cure potion.”

 

“That makes sense...I think,” Dinesh said.

 

“But it only works for three potions. Because I was just using linear brewing, right? But if I use middle-out...I can make the base potion the middle ingredients and the potion-specific modifier the outer ingredients. I’d be able to make it work for hundreds of Cure potions!”

 

Dinesh glared at Hendricks. “Wait, what the fuck? Middle-out is our thing. You can’t just steal it from us.”

 

“Well you told me about it, and it’s not as if you own the idea, so...” Richard said testily. He continued to write.

 

“Then we’ll go ahead and do your thing,” Gilfoyle said immediately. “With a little tinkering, we should be able to reverse-engineer a fundamental Cure potion of our own.”

 

“Fuck you!” Richard clutched his quill tightly and glared at Gilfoyle. “That’s my idea. You can’t just steal it. I spent years thinking about it.”

 

Gilfoyle laughed. “Well, we certainly won’t need that long.”

 

“Besides, it’s not as if you own the idea,” Dinesh added sarcastically.

 

“Assholes,” Richard muttered sourly. He ignored Dinesh and Gilfoyle for the rest of class.

 

**

 

Richard visited Jared in the Hospital Wing after dinner. Jared was alone, and Richard nervously placed the items he had brought Jared on his bedside table: notes from the classes Jared had missed, and a bar of chocolate.

 

“Thank you, Richard,” Jared said. His eyes were shining.

 

“No problem,” Richard said, feeling his stomach squirm. Why did Jared have to be so damn... _nice,_ and innocent? It was weird. It was making him feel weird things.

 

Jared flipped through the notes. “Is this from _Care of Magical Creatures?_ You’re not in that class.”

 

“Oh, um, I asked Monica and Erlich for the notes for the classes I didn’t have with you. I know how much you care about your studies, so...” A blush crept over his face.

 

“Richard! That’s so thoughtful! I could kiss you right now!” Jared exclaimed.

 

Richard felt more heat pooling in his face, which was probably scarlet by now. His throat tightened. He tried to take in a deep breath to calm himself down ( _why am I so worked up in the first place?_ ) but just ended up coughing nervously. Jared looked at him.

 

“Oh, I apologize if my outburst startled you! I meant it hypothetically. Obviously, I don’t advocate one-sided sexual advances. That would be hypocritical of me. I suppose I just got carried away, since I’m not used to people doing nice things for me.” Jared smiled. He fucking smiled. How was it possible for a person to say something like that and then to fucking smile?

 

“Okay,” Richard said lamely. He watched Jared scan the rest of the notes.

 

“I don’t see anything for Potions. Did we not have Potions today?” Jared asked.

 

“No, we did,” Richard said, happy that their conversation had veered back into more familiar territory. “We didn’t do much though. No lecture or anything.”

 

“What did you brew? I’d like to at least review the recipe before the next class.”

 

Richard laughed bitterly. “Funny you should ask that. I actually didn’t get to brew anything. Slughorn had us work in groups of four. Well, I was in a group of three, since you weren’t there. Anyway, I had to work with these two assholes. They wouldn’t let me touch the cauldron. They were done in fifteen minutes, even though the potion takes more than an hour to complete. Then they wouldn’t stop bragging about it. Fucking arrogant pricks.”

 

“How did they brew the potion so quickly?” Jared asked.

 

Richard sighed, then tried to recount his conversation with Chugtai and Gilfoyle to the best of his abilities. He told Jared about middle-out, about how he had told them about his fundamental Cure base potion, and how they had promptly stolen his idea. “They’re just complete fucking douchebags, you know?”

 

“Why don’t you just work together?”

 

“I told you. They wouldn’t let me touch the Warmth Potion. I wanted to help, but--”

 

“No, I mean work together on your idea. The fundamental Cure potion.”

 

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

 

“Richard, your fundamental Cure potion could be more than just an idea. It could be wildly successful and save millions of lives. If middle-out is as fantastic as you say, you’ll need all the resources you can get. Including middle-out, and quite frankly, including middle-out’s two inventors.”

 

“What? But those guys are assholes!”

 

“Yes, but they’re also ostensibly talented at Potions. And they expressed interest in your cause. If you really want to do this, you’ll need competent brewers by your side.”

 

Richard buried his face in his hands. “Fuck,” he said, voice muffled slightly. “You’re right. Fuck.”

 

“And,” Jared continued. “I would definitely help your cause, if you wish. Obviously not with the brewing...but I can do other things. I can keep track of expenses—I have an O in Arithmancy, you know—and take care of PR. Those sorts of things.”

 

Richard looked up at Jared, speechless. He wanted to say something—in fact, he wanted to say a lot of things—but “thank you”, “how are you so nice and generous and perfect” and “why do you believe in me” didn’t seem appropriate for the situation.

 

“Anyway,” Jared said, pushing his sheets to his feet and shakily standing up, “I have to go to a Birdwatching Club meeting, but I’ll see you tomorrow in Potions.”

 

Richard nodded, and watched Jared put on his shoes and a thin, tattered hat.

 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Richard blurted. “Going outside in the freezing cold to watch birds after just having been sick?”

 

Jared laughed. “I wasn’t exactly sick with pneumonia. And I have Madam Pomfrey’s permission. I’ll be fine.”

 

Richard blushed. It had been a stupid thing to say. Jared wasn’t helpless, and he didn’t want Richard constantly doting over him like an overbearing mother. “Um, right...okay bye then,” he said quickly, fleeing the Hospital Wing before Jared had the chance to say goodbye.

 

**

 

Richard entered the Potions classroom and reluctantly walked to the back of the classroom where Chugtai and Gilfoyle sat. They were huddling over a tattered book filled with complicated cauldron diagrams.

 

“So, I was thinking about our conversation from last class,” he said nervously.

 

Chugtai closed the book and looked at him boredly. Gilfoyle crossed his arms and huffed, acknowledging Richard’s presence, if not making eye contact with him.

 

It was at least something.

 

“Just hear me out,” Richard said. “We were thinking. I want to use middle-out on my fundamental Cure base potion idea, and you two also want to do it. It’ll take a lot of work, but if it works, it could be huge. So, um, why don’t we partner up? If it succeeds—and the probability of success would be higher with all three of us—we could help millions of people. Make lots of money. That sort of thing.”

 

“It’s not a horrible idea,” Chugtai said slowly. “However, I still think you’re a colossal dickhead.”

 

“But it’s not as if we’ll be able to start an actual business,” Gilfoyle said. “We’re teenagers. We don’t have money or connections. We can’t just buy a thousand cauldrons and sell tens of thousands of galleons of potions to big buyers. Nobody will take us seriously.”

 

“Well, my Potions partner said would take care of the business stuff,” Richard said, relieved that they were at least considering his proposition. “And we would start small and gradually grow. We still have to develop the actual product, after all.”

 

“That actually seems reasonable,” Gilfoyle said.

 

Suddenly, Jared entered the classroom. Richard was happy to see that he looked much healthier and more animated than he did last night in the Hospital Wing. Jared scanned the classroom for Richard, then briefly waved at him when they made eye contact. The wave was a small gesture, bashful almost. Richard felt another blush coming on.

 

“Wait, your Potions partner is Dunn?” Gilfoyle asked Richard incredulously, cocking his head in Jared’s direction.

 

“Yeah, so?”

 

“How did I not notice that before?” Gilfoyle turned to Chugtai. “Dunn is the asshole that snitched on me and got my Prefect status revoked.”

 

“What? Seriously?” Chugtai glared at Dunn. “What an asshole. He looks like the teacher’s pet type, too.”

 

Jared arrived at their table. “Hello, I’m Jared Dunn,” he said kindly, extending a hand to Chugtai. Chugtai continued to glare at him and did not partake in a handshake. “Oh, and hello, Bertram. Richard, um, didn’t tell me that you are in our group.”

 

“My name is Gilfoyle. Everybody calls me Gilfoyle,” Gilfoyle said through gritted teeth.

 

“Yes, and my name is Donald, and yet nobody calls me that,” Jared said icily. It was the first time Richard had ever seen him not treat another person with extreme kindness and politeness. The moment passed quickly, however, and Jared turned to Richard, smiling kindly as always. “Richard—did you talk to them about joining forces yet?”

 

“Um, a little,” Richard said, still unsettled from Jared’s quick change in mood.

 

“Okay,” Jared said, levitating a scroll out of his schoolbag. “Last night, I drafted a preliminary business plan. Would you three like to hear about it?”

 

Richard nodded, Chugtai raised a curious eyebrow, and Gilfoyle did not react.

 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Jared said, and he began to speak about the structure of their hypothetical business. He spoke eloquently and professionally—Richard couldn’t believe how much Jared knew about this stuff—and at the same time convincingly and passionately. Jared was bringing his idea to life. _This could be real. Fundamental Cure Potions could be a real thing._ Richard grinned.

 

When Jared was done speaking, Chugtai turned to Gilfoyle. “What do you think?”

 

“I usually am not one for working with other people, but this sounds really interesting. Fuck.”

 

Chugtai laughed. “That’s exactly what I was going to say. Let’s just try it out, and if these two end up being total idiots we jump ship?”

 

“Sounds good to me,” Gilfoyle agreed.

 

Richard frowned. “We’re sitting right here, you know.”

 

“Excellent!” Jared said, clapping his hands together. “I’ll revise the business plan. Perhaps we can meet in the student Potions lab tonight so you three can start working on the new Cure base potion?”

 

“Sounds great,” Richard said.

 

“Cool,” Chugtai said.

 

Gilfoyle exhaled. “Fuck. This just became an extra class.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, writing scenes with more than two people is difficult. Also, writing exposition that doesn't sound like a Wikipedia article is difficult. And planning longer stories with foreshadowing and multiple storylines is difficult. I guess what I'm trying to say is: Writing is difficult. Not that y'all didn't know that already. :P I hope you're having as much fun with this as I am. :)))))


	5. Hogwarts Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinesh and Gilfoyle steal an essential potion ingredient from Slughorn's private cupboard. They very nearly get caught.

Dinesh was so absorbed in his Arithmancy homework that he nearly forgot about the meeting. He hastily shoved his favorite brewing supplies into his schoolbag and raced to the student potions lab. Gilfoyle, Hendricks and Dunn were already there, having some sort of discussion. Dinesh awkwardly sat next to Gilfoyle. He wondered if it would be weird for him to apologize for his tardiness. Or would it be weird if he didn’t apologize?

 

Dinesh could see Gilfoyle tapping his right foot. That meant he was agitated.

 

“What do you mean, we can’t start brewing the potion? What the fuck, Hendricks? That was the entire point of today’s meeting.”

 

Hendricks sighed. “Look, Gilfoyle. We can’t brew the potion without unicorn hoof dust. I thought I had some more in my room, but I guess I used it all up.”

 

“Can’t we just fetch some from the student cupboards?” Dunn asked.

 

“Unicorn hoof dust? No way,” Dinesh said at once. “That stuff is super expensive and super toxic. They won’t let students touch that stuff.”

 

Dunn and Hendricks looked surprised to see him, as if they hadn’t noticed Dinesh’s presence until now.

 

“Ugh...” Hendricks groaned. “Now we’ll have to wait until the next Hogsmeade trip. And that isn’t for another month.”

 

“Unless...” Gilfoyle said slowly. “Slughorn’s private cupboard is bound to have some.”

 

“Absolutely not,” Dunn said. “As a Hogwarts Prefect, it is my obligation to enforce our school’s rules. If would be my moral obligation to report your behavior to the Headmaster.”

 

Gilfoyle clenched his fists and glared at Jared. “Are you fucking kidding me? Is that Prefect badge of yours shoved so far up your ass that you won’t let us break an extremely minor rule?”

 

“I’m with Jared on this one,” Richard said firmly. “It’s not worth the risk. We could get suspended, or even expelled.”

 

“Not if we don’t get caught,” Dinesh said. “And we won’t get caught, if we’re careful about it. I want to get to work. I say let’s do it.”

 

“It doesn’t matter if we get caught!” Richard hissed. “It’d be theft either way! I don’t want to have that on my conscience, not to mention our hypothetical future company’s conscience. We shouldn’t have to lie, cheat and steal to succeed.”

 

“Spoken like a true Gryffindor, blinded by naiveté,” Gilfoyle said sarcastically.

 

Nobody spoke. The air was thick with tension. It was clear that nobody was going to change their mind. And there wasn’t much they could do about a 2–2 tie. _I wonder if this is the reason movies tend to stick to friend groups of three and five, instead of four._ _Maybe we should have added a fifth guy._

 

Dinesh glanced at Gilfoyle and Hendricks, who were glaring at each other. Both seemed dangerously close to initiating a fist fight.

 

Suddenly, Dinesh had an idea: “Okay, how about we do this? Gilfoyle and I get the unicorn hoof dust. You guys won’t have to be involved at all. You won’t know when we do it, or how we do it. But in, say, three days’ time, we four can meet up again, and I’ll bring along the dust that I had totally been storing in my room all along. Wink. Wink. We’ll be able to actually brew something, and as far as you guys know, we won’t have broken any rules.”

 

“I like it,” Gilfoyle said immediately.

 

“I suppose I could agree to those terms,” Dunn said hesitantly, muttering something under his breath about a guy named Jerry that Dinesh couldn’t quite hear. “Richard?”

 

Hendricks closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “If Jared’s okay with it, then I guess I am, too.”

 

**

 

Dinesh and Gilfoyle agreed to work out the details of their plan on the next day, during lunch.

 

“This should be fairly straightforward,” Gilfoyle said nonchalantly, producing a map of Hogwarts from his schoolbag. “I used to steal Potions ingredients all the time. The best time to go is around midnight. That’s when Filch makes his rounds in the upper levels of the castle. We should be able to get to the lower levels of the Ravenclaw Tower undetected.”

 

Dinesh internally sighed, glad that Gilfoyle had implicitly agreed to hide their smuggled goods. He replayed the steps of the plan in his mind.“Wait a minute,” he said suddenly. “How are we going to access Slughorn’s cupboard in the first place? He probably locks it with some complicated spell.”

 

“Yeah, Alohamora doesn’t work.” Gilfoyle reached into his schoolbag and pulled out a beautiful sheathed knife. “This should do the trick though. I got it in Knockturn alley. It can slice through anything, even cursed objects.”

 

“Holy shit,” Dinesh breathed. Gilfoyle handed him the knife, and Dinesh inspected it more closely. Ancient Runes were engraved onto the handle, but he couldn’t make out what they meant.

 

“It’ll be a cakewalk,” Gilfoyle said, taking the knife back from Dinesh and twirling it lazily. “Hendricks and Dunn are just being complete pussies.”

 

**

 

They met by the student potions lab at midnight. Dinesh was incredibly nervous—he had never broken any school rules before—but he tried not to show it. He didn’t want Gilfoyle to think he was uncool, like Hendricks or Dunn.

 

“Hey,” Dinesh whispered.

 

“Nobody’s around. You can use your normal tone of voice, you know,” Gilfoyle said.

 

“Okay,” Dinesh said, but his throat was dry from anxiety and it came out as a half-whisper anyway. “Do you think we should cast Concealment Charms on each other?”

 

“I don’t think it will make much of a difference. In the unlikely event that Filch shows up, Mrs. Norris will be able to smell us anyway. And then Filch will just put on his anti-Concealment goggles.”

 

Dinesh nodded. “Let’s go, then. Right?”

 

They walked to the Potions classroom. The hallways were dark, silent and empty. The castle even somehow _smelled_ like night—musty and damp. Every little sound—the creak of a floorboard, the buzz of a fly, the faint coughing of a distant painting—made Dinesh draw in a startled breath. What if Filch was there? Or worse, a professor? When Dinesh leaped backwards in surprise when he heard a mysterious shuffling noise, he crashed into Gilfoyle.

 

Gilfoyle chucked. “Relax. This isn’t the Forbidden Forest.”

 

Dinesh flushed in embarrassment. Thankfully, the school hallways were nearly pitch-black.

 

The actual theft job was surprisingly straightforward. Dinesh watched Gilfoyle expertly pry open the cupboard door with his knife. They poured a generous amount of unicorn hoof dust into a special jar Gilfoyle had brought, and that was that.

 

“Wait,” Gilfoyle said, when Dinesh was about to turn around and leave. “I want to pick up some other stuff.”

 

“What?” Dinesh hissed. “We’re not exactly buying sweets at fucking Honeydukes! We need to get the fuck out of here!”

 

“Stop worrying, nerd,” Gilfoyle said, nicking a basilisk fang, a moonstone and a phial of an unlabeled, clear liquid and putting them in his bag. “I only need a couple of things.”

 

When Gilfoyle was _finally_ done sampling what felt like one of everything from Slughorn’s cupboard, he resealed the cupboard with a quick _Reparo._ “Okay, now we can get the fuck out of here.”

 

They exited the Potions classroom, walked down a hallway, and turned a corner. That was when Dinesh heard the footsteps.

 

He stopped dead in his tracks. “Gilfoyle. Do you hear that?”

 

Gilfoyle stopped to listen. Sure enough, a faint _click clack_ sound echoed through the halls. They stood in place, trying to place the sound. It was gradually growing louder, but Dinesh couldn’t hear where it was coming from.

 

Suddenly, the sound stopped. A second of silence. Then, a high-pitched, whiny noise that was unmistakably the mewling of a cat.

 

“Fuck,” Gilfoyle whispered. He grabbed Dinesh’s hand and raced away from the sound of the mewing, tugging Dinesh along with him. Dinesh couldn’t hear the footsteps that were presumably Filch’s anymore, just his and Gilfoyle’s panicked steps and heavy breathing. Eventually, Gilfoyle swung open a closet door, lead them inside, and shut the door with a breathless _Colloportus_.

 

“Hopefully Mrs. Norris won’t find us in here,” Gilfoyle said, still panting slightly.

 

“Has this ever happened to you before?”

 

“No,” Gilfoyle said curtly. “Not Filch.”

 

“What do you think we should do?”

 

“I don’t know. I just said this has never happened to me before!”

 

“Well, Filch has to go to sleep eventually. Let’s just wait half an hour or so and try to head back to our dormitories then.”

 

Gilfoyle said nothing. Dinesh assumed he had nodded, probably forgetting that Dinesh couldn’t see him in the darkness.

 

“I feel like such a dumbass,” Gilfoyle said suddenly. “I kept saying this was going to be easy. Because it usually is. I kept teasing you for worrying. But it turns out you’re right, and now we may actually get caught.” He took a deep breath. “Sorry.”

 

It was the first time Gilfoyle had apologized to Dinesh. It was the first time Dinesh had heard Gilfoyle apologize to anybody.

 

“I’m just glad I didn’t majorly fuck up,” Dinesh said. “To be honest...I’ve never done anything like this before.”

 

Gilfoyle laughed. “No shit, Sherlock. It is painfully obvious that you have never broken a rule in your life.”

 

“I have too!” Dinesh said indignantly. “I eat in the Kitchens with you all the time now. That’s against the rules. And I once drank Firewhisky in Potions class.”

 

“Yeah, but we do that stuff together. Face it, you don’t have the guts to break the rules without me.”

 

“Untrue. I’ve broken rules on my own before. I...” Dinesh trailed off, struggling to think of an example. “Oh! I once went to Flourish and Blotts, and picked up this really interesting Potions History book, right? I sat down and started to read it. Four hours later, I finished the book. So I put the book back where I found it, and left the store _without purchasing it._ It was basically theft. Idea theft.”

 

“Let me guess—you also cheat on exams by memorizing your notes beforehand?” Gilfoyle snickered.

 

Dinesh realized that his story was not representative of the kind of rulebreaking Gilfoyle had in mind. This was followed by the subsequent realization that Gilfoyle was right. He had indeed never broken a rule in his life. At least until Gilfoyle showed up.

 

“Fuck you,” he glowered.

 

“For what it’s worth, you’re not terrible at willfully ignoring the arbitrary walls erected by our controlling society. For a newbie.”

 

It was...sort of a compliment? “Thanks. I think.”

 

Dinesh suddenly realized that he and Gilfoyle were still holding hands. Come to think of it, they were standing quite close to each other. The closet didn’t have much floor space, and as a result there was only a sliver of air separating their bodies. It felt strangely intimate. If Dinesh were to move his arms ever so slightly forward, he could wrap them around Gilfoyle and pull him even closer. If Dinesh were to move his head slightly forward, his lips might just meet Gilfoyle’s—

 

 _Aaaaah! What am I doing? What the fuck?_ Gilfoyle was his friend. His only real friend, his best friend. The last thing Dinesh needed to do was develop non-platonic feelings for him. He took a deep breath to clear his thoughts. It didn’t really help: the air was warm and stuffy and smelled like Gilfoyle.

 

“This bag is getting heavy. Just so you know, I’m putting it down on the floor behind me. Don’t shove me backwards, or I might step on something.” Gilfoyle inched toward Dinesh until their bodies were ever-so-slightly pressed together. Dinesh drew in a sharp breath. He could feel the blood rushing through his body. As if things weren’t bad enough, Gilfoyle carefully descended into a crouch, presumably to set down the bad of potion ingredients as gently as possible. Dinesh could feel Gilfoyle’s chin slowly trace down his torso—starting at the hollow of his throat, moving down to his chest, his belly button, and stopping at his fucking crotch of all places...Dinesh swallowed, praying to Merlin that he wouldn’t moan. By the time Gilfoyle had returned to a standing position, Dinesh could feel himself growing hard inside his school robes. Resisting the urge to lean forward into Gilfoyle’s touch, he discreetly manouvered the offending area backwards.

 

“You know, I used to come here with Tara all the time,” Gilfoyle said, somehow doing the impossible and making things even worse, because now Dinesh was imagining kissing Gilfoyle, and despite the fact that Dinesh had never kissed another guy before, it felt right and vivid and good, and he wanted nothing more than to try it out for real.

 

“This is a great spot for making out, you know,” Gilfoyle said nonchalantly.

 

Dinesh’s brain went into overdrive. He didn’t know what to do. His brain was suggesting many different courses of action, but all of them involved touching, groping, or kissing Gilfoyle. Since these were obviously bad ideas, Dinesh tried to focus on not doing anything. This meant remembering to breathe, and keeping himself from doing or saying anything stupid.

 

Dinesh laughed weakly. “Ha ha, wouldn’t it be hilarious if we kissed?”

 

 _What did I just say, idiot._ Dinesh cursed his inability to act like an actual human being in any non-academic situation.

 

Gilfoyle laughed, but it sounded forced. He was probably tired. “Ha. Yeah. Hilarious.” Gilfoyle muttered something about nearly stepping on the potions bag, then bent down to pick it up (without pressing his face against Dinesh’s torso, thank goodness) and slung it back over his shoulder. This allowed him to take half a step back and get rid of any physical contact between him and Dinesh.

 

 _You’re not disappointed,_ Dinesh told himself insistently. _You’re thankful. That sinking feeling in your stomach? That’s you being thankful for not fucking things up and losing your only friend because of embarrassing hormones._

 

The rest of the half hour was quiet and awkward. Dinesh was too rattled to think of decent conversation, and Gilfoyle didn’t seem to be the mood to talk either. When they finally exited the broom closet, Filch and Mrs. Norris had thankfully disappeared. Both snuck back into their dorms easily.

 

It was weird. Dinesh ought to feel exhilarated, after just barely having avoided being caught, or triumphant at the thought of having succeeded in their mission, or at the very least excited for the opportunity to finally brew Hendricks’ potion. But instead, he felt hollow. Dinesh yawned and laid down in his bed. It was probably just exhaustion. It had been a long day, after all.

 

**

 

Gilfoyle gave Dinesh the small jar of unicorn hoof dust at breakfast. Dinesh proudly presented it to Hendricks and Dunn at their next group meeting.

 

“Wow,” Dunn said, smiling just a little too brightly, “We are so fortunate that you just happened to have an extra jar of unicorn hoof dust lying around in your room. What a coincidence. Thank you, Dinesh.”

 

Richard looked like he was about to say something—then suddenly turned to his side, keeled over and vomited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because every sv fic involving Richard has to feature a scene with him vomiting. XD
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this chapter! :))) Next chapter is Richard-centric. In the distant future, there will be Dinfoyle, flashbacks, some Jarrich, more Dinfoyle...so stay tuned.


	6. The Imposter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard explains the inner workings of his fundamental Cure potion to Dinesh and Gilfoyle. Richard thinks that Dinesh and Gilfoyle are annoying assholes who constantly argue with each other. But he also quickly (and begrudgingly) realizes that they are adept at Potions. Extremely adept. As they quickly outperform him, Richard begins to doubt himself and his abilities in Potions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're just reading this fic for the Dinfoyle, don't skip this chapter! Even though this chapter is from Richard's POV, there is plenty of Dinfoyle to be found. I just couldn't resist :)))

“I can’t believe that this is our first technical meeting. This is so exciting!” Jared exclaimed, grinning ear-to-ear.

 

Richard glanced at Chugtai and Gilfoyle, who looked much less enthusiastic. In fact, Chugtai appeared to be half-asleep, his head resting lightly on Gilfoyle’s shoulder. That probably had something to do with the fact that Jared had insisted on meeting on a Saturday morning. Before breakfast. At 5am.

 

“As a surprise to boost group morality, I even came up with a slogan for our budding company,” Jared said, smiling proudly. “ _Making the world a better place._ ”

 

“How original,” Gilfoyle said dryly. Jared frowned at him. “Anyway, shouldn’t we finish developing our actual product before we get to the meaningless platitudes?”

 

“Um, right,” Richard said. He fumbled through the pages of his overflowing Potions folder, eventually pulling out a copy of the instructions for his fundamental Cure potion that Jared had written down. “I guess I’ll start by showing you how it works?”

 

“Okay,” Gilfoyle said. He gently shrugged the shoulder Chugtai was leaning on. Chugtai jolted awake as if hit by a Lightning Spell.

 

“Okay. Cool. Rad,” Chugtai said immediately, miserably failing at nonchalance.

 

When Richard felt like he more or less had Chugtai and Gilfoyle’s attention, he spoke: “So, there are two main parts of the potion. The outside and the Core. The Core is the most important part. It makes up the last 10% of the instructions or so. It acts as a sort of filter, right? I classified all Cure potions into 243 different strands. So when you add the single ingredient specific to the potion you’re trying to brew, the Core reacts with it and determines which of the 243 strands the potion belongs to. Then, depending on which strand the Core outputs, certain parts of the outside react with the Core to produce the potion. The rest of the outside doesn’t react with the Core, it just cancels out.”

 

Chugtai and Gilfoyle were looking at him blankly, so he hastily elaborated.

 

“So, um, for example, if you want to produce the Cure for Boils, you add Bubotuber pus and vegetable oil, okay? And since the Cure for Boils is on strand 32, the Core will output a basic Bubotuber solution. Because that’s on strand 32. From there, you only need a few ingredients to get the Cure for Boils. So those ingredients from the outside react with the Core. Then you have the Cure for Boils.”

 

“Okay, putting aside the fact that I don’t know of any potion recipes that have a structure that is anywhere near as complicated as yours, I think I roughly understand what you’re saying,” Chugtai said.

 

“Can you explain the details?” Gilfoyle asked.

 

Jared stood up. “I believe that’s my cue to leave,” he said. Richard wanted to protest—after all, being alone in a room with Chugtai and Gilfoyle wasn’t exactly his idea of an ideal Saturday. When they weren’t intensely arguing with each other, they were verbally antagonizing somebody else. Richard did not want to be on the receiving end of their combined wrath.

 

But Jared looked tense—his features pinches, his lips pursed—and Richard didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable. “Okay, see you, Jared,” Richard said.

 

Once Jared left the room, Richard delved into a line-by-line explanation of his recipe, suddenly extremely grateful for the detailed brewing instructions Jared had written down. He wouldn’t have even known how to begin explaining how his potion worked if not for Jared’s foresight. _Have I_ _properly_ _thanked Jared yet? I probably should._

 

Chugtai and Gilfoyle were surprisingly attentive listeners, only interrupting to ask the occasional question. When Richard was explaining step 56 of the outside, they even suggested a way to improve his potion:

 

“Wait, why the fuck are you using shrew tail?” Gilfoyle had asked.

 

“Uh, to keep the temperature down?” Richard said uncertainly. Shrew tail was a common potion ingredient, typically introduced in Year Three. It seemed like an odd point for Gilfoyle to focus on.

 

“You should use snake skin instead,” Gilfoyle said. “It’s faster and cheaper.”

 

“Oh, I didn’t know that,” Richard said, feeling slightly foolish.

 

“No, he should use snake tail,” Chugtai interjected. “Snake skin is way too delicate. There’s no way it won’t dissolve beforehand.”

 

“No, look at steps 55 and 57. Those are soft ingredients. And we’re using middle-out. The snake skin will be fine,” Gilfoyle argued.

 

Gilfoyle and Chugtai argued about the advantages and drawbacks of various snake bits for _ten_ _fucking_ _minutes_ before Richard realized they wouldn’t shut up unless he interrupted them.

 

“Let’s just figure it out later, okay?” Richard said hastily. He grabbed a quill and crossed out the step with shrew tail, hastily scrawling _snake skin,_ _or snake tail, or something_ in the margin.

 

They spent the entire day going over Richard’s potion recipe, only breaking for meals. (They never actually went to the Great Hall—Gilfoyle would just leave and return fifteen minutes later with a tray piled ridiculously high with food. He refused to tell Richard where the food came from.)

 

The meal breaks were horrible. Richard would nibble on his food, wishing he had something else to do than listen to Chugtai and Gilfoyle banter. It was astounding how they managed to turn every little thing into a long-winded debate. Even when they agreed with each other, they would still discuss the topic ad nauseam, taking turns speaking after every sentence as if they were giving a joint speech. Their lunch break lasted two hours. Chugtai and Gilfoyle spent the last ten minutes of it scarfing down cold pizza and the first one hundred and ten minutes just _talkin_ _g._

 

At eleven o’clock at night, Richard finally finished explaining the inner workings of his potion. They began to discuss a more practical issue—the actual development process.

 

“Okay, we know how the potion works. But how exactly will we contribute?” Gilfoyle asked.

 

“Easy,” Richard said. “The Core is pretty much done. Now we need to add to the outside to get all 243 strands working. So, each strand is assigned to a person. That person has to figure out what to add to the outside to make that strand produce the desired Cure potion, while making sure their additions don’t interfere with any other strands. Then, once we’ve all worked on a bunch of strands, we unify them to get one fundamental potion. That’s where middle-out comes in. Using middle-out, the unification should be fairly trivial.”

 

“I call the Mandrake strand. I have an idea on how to do that one,” Chugtai said instantly.

 

“In that case, I call the Flobberworm strand,” Gilfoyle said.

 

“No fair! I wanted that one next!” Chugtai whined.

 

“Sucks to be you.”

 

“Okay guys,” Richard said, ripping out three blank sheets of parchment from his notebook. “I’ll charm these with a Protean Charm. We can write down who is working on which strand, so there are no conflicts.”

 

“Don’t forget to write down that I get the Mandrake stand.”

 

“And that I have the Flobberworm strand. Oh, and also, I want the Dragon Horn strand.”

 

“Hey! You can’t pick two at once! It’s my turn to pick!”

 

“You had the first pick, so it’s only fair that I get the next two picks.”

 

“How is that fair? And anyway, you told me yourself that you don’t believe in the concept of fairness. Something about your weird cult that worships Morgan le Fey.”

 

“We’re not a cult. If anything, you belong to a cult. You willingly conform to the arbitrary rules of wizarding society, which by the way are based on myths about wizards who never existed, altered and spread by the Ministry in order to turn wizards into mindless sheep.”

 

“Yeah, I follow arbitrary rules such as not using one of the ten Unforgivable Curses and not fucking killing anybody. That totally means I’m brainwashed,” Chugtai said sarcastically. “How are you not seeing that if one of us is brainwashed, it’s you? My so-called rules are just common human decency. You’re the one who does weird rituals and worships a woman you refer to as the ‘one true sorceress’.”

 

“I finished the Protean charm,” Richard announced loudly, trying to stop their conversation before it turned into another one of their lengthy arguments. He handed each of them a charmed piece of parchment, listing each of the 243 strands. They inspected their lists thoughtfully, and Richard inwardly sighed with relief. Finally, he had managed to shut them up.

 

“Wait,” Chugtai said. “All of these strands are unassigned. But I already claimed Mandrake strand!”

 

Gilfoyle laughed slowly as he dipped a quill in ink and began to write on his piece of parchment. “Not anymore...”

 

_God damn it. So much for shutting them up._

 

“You dick! That’s my strand!” Chugtai said angrily. He attempted to steal Gilfoyle’s quill. When that inevitably failed, Chugtai jumped onto Gilfoyle’s lap and began to wrestle him for the quill. The brawl quickly escalated and the pair was soon rolling around on the floor.

 

Once Richard realized they weren’t going to stop fighting any time soon, he summoned the quill with a quick _Accio_. (Why Chugtai and Gilfoyle hadn’t thought to use magic in the first place was beyond him.)

 

“Merlin’s beard! I swear, I will cast Silencing Charms on both of you unless you fuck each other in a broom closet or do whatever it is you need to do to shut the fuck up and stop arguing constantly!” Richard hissed exasperatedly.

 

Chugtai swallowed and Gilfoyle turned uncharacteristically pink. And neither of them spoke. Finally.

 

After around ten seconds of nobody saying anything, Richard wondered if he had been too hard on them. Overall, they had covered a lot of ground for just one day of work. Jared was right: Chugtai and Gilfoyle had a natural aptitude for potions. Not only had they managed to understand his extremely complicated recipe—they had even made improvements on it. Sure, Chugtai and Gilfoyle were annoying assholes. But they were in a unique position to understand Richard’s recipe and help him improve it.

 

“So, um, good meeting overall,” Richard said awkwardly. “This was cool. We accomplished a lot today.”

 

“Yeah, your potion was really interesting,” Chugtai said mildly.

 

“Very promising,” Gilfoyle nodded.

 

Richard smiled, thankful that they weren’t upset at him for losing his temper. “Meeting adjourned?”

 

“See you Monday,” Gilfoyle said.

 

**

 

On Monday, Richard entered the student potions lab. He was greeted by a shy smile from Jared and the sound of Chugtai and Gilfoyle arguing. Loudly. Richard groaned. _Not again._

 

“No, I clearly did more. I took care of five whole strands,” Chugtai said.

 

“Yeah, but you picked the easy ones,” Gilfoyle retorted. “I did three strands, but they were difficult ones, and I did a fucking good job on them.”

 

 _Holy shit._ Eight strands between the two of them? Richard himself had only managed to complete one strand over the weekend. And he had been working on that one for the last past week.

 

“You didn’t pick difficult strands. You’re just saying that. You picked the Flobberworm strand. That one was easy.”

 

“Actually, I didn’t finish the Flobberworm strand,” Gilfoyle admitted. “Some...complications arose.”

 

“Wait really? Let me see,” Chugtai said, scooting his chair closer to Gilfoyle. Immediately, they stopped arguing and began to civilly discuss the details of Gilfoyle’s Flobberworm predicament.

 

Richard sighed. _I will never understand that relationship._

 

Gilfoyle finished explaining one particular mishap he had had while experimenting with the Flobberworm strand.

 

Chugtai laughed. “Holy shit, just like the Flobberworm incident!”

 

“Don’t remind me,” Gilfoyle said flatly, but his facial expression gave away his amusement. He continued to describe the difficulties he had been having with the Flobberworm strand.

 

Suddenly, Richard had an idea. “I think I know how you can get the Flobberworm strand to work,” he said quietly. Chugtai and Gilfoyle looked at him expectantly. “So, if we just tweak the Core slightly...” Richard went on to explain his solution. Essentially, by changing the Core, they could fix Gilfoyle’s problem without invalidating any of the work they had done so far.

 

“Nice,” Gilfoyle said, when Richard was done speaking.

 

He and Chugtai began to troubleshoot a different strand they had both had trouble with—the elusive Dragon Blood strand. The conversation moved rapidly. They went back and forth, suggesting the use of various ingredients and brewing techniques (half of which Richard had never even heard of). Sometimes, they would reject each other’s ideas immediately, tersely explaining why they wouldn’t work. If an idea seemed plausible, they would spend time discussing how it could be used. Listening to them talk was like what Richard imagined performing Legilimency would feel like. Just a bunch of disconnected thoughts, only comprehensible by the two of them:

 

“Eel blood?”

 

“No, that would mess with the Bubotuber pus.”

 

“Shit, yeah.”

 

“I know what you mean though. Blood would be ideal. Maybe cat blood?”

 

“No. Remember what happened when we tried that with Felix Felicis?”

 

“Yeah, but you’re forgetting the Bubotuber pus.”

 

“With cat blood, it’s irrelevant.”

 

Not able to contribute to their fast-paced conversation, Richard tuned them out, instead working on a different strand. _Only my second_ _strand_ _,_ he thought grimly.

 

Chugtai and Gilfoyle left early, citing a particularly nasty essay they both hadn’t started and needed to finish by tomorrow. Richard and Jared, having already written the essay, stayed behind to finish writing an entry in a shabby journal Jared insisted on calling their company’s “productivity report”. Whatever that meant.

 

“Chugtai did five strands, Gilfoyle did three, and I did, um, one,” Richard informed Jared.

 

“This is great! You three are making such quick progress!” Jared said. He neatly printed the numbers next to each of their names on the first page of the journal.

 

Richard swallowed. Seeing his own relative incompetence being printed on paper made him feel even worse. “Hey Jared? Can I talk to you about something?”

 

“Of course, Richard. What is it?”

 

“It’s just—” Richard began, struggling to find the words to explain. “I feel like Chugtai and Gilfoyle can do everything so much better than me, you know? I needed years to develop my potion, and they just learned it in a day? And look at their numbers now. I feel useless, you know? They know so much more about Potions. It’s like I’m pretending to be this potions guy, but actually, I have no clue what I’m doing.”

 

Jared smiled at him kindly and put a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, Richard. What you’re feeling is completely natural. In psychology, it’s called imposter syndrome. You feel like an incompetent fraud, but in reality, you’re not able to see how capable and talented you are.”

 

“Giving it a name doesn’t help,” Richard said glumly. “I still have it either way. And I still feel like shit.”

 

Jared said some more things—about Richard’s talent, his raw intellect, his creativity. About how if only he could _see_ himself, then he would know his true genius. Richard tried to take Jared’s words to heart, but the rush of compliments just washed over him. Of course _Jared_ would be supportive of him. Jared was nice to everybody. And besides, he had a strange grudge against Gilfoyle, and against Chugtai by extension, since Chugtai was essentially a part of Gilfoyle.

 

In short, Jared was an extremely biased source. Objectively speaking, Richard knew that compared to Chugtai and Gilfoyle, he was useless.

 

“Did that help?” Jared asked softly.

 

Richard had already let himself down. He didn’t want to let Jared down as well.

 

“Yeah. Thanks, Jared,” he said. He tried his best to force a smile. If Jared noticed that it didn’t reach his eyes, he didn’t say anything.

 

**

 

The next time the group met, it was a technical meeting, so Jared didn’t attend. When Gilfoyle left to fetch snacks from his mysterious food supplier, Richard decided to talk to Chugtai about it.

 

“Hey Chugtai, can I ask you something?”

 

“You just did,” Chugtai looked extremely pleased with himself.

 

“No. Something else.”

 

“Sure, I guess.”

 

“Do you ever feel—y’know, incompetent? Inferior? Useless?”

 

Chugtai narrowed his eyes. “Useless at what specifically?”

 

“Potions. Obviously.”

 

“Is this your weird way of trying to convince me that Gilfoyle is better at potions than me?” Chugtai said. “Because whatever he told you is total bullshit. His Iranian potion story is completely fabricated. He just tells that to make himself sound cool.”

 

Richard opened his mouth, not sure how to articulate that Chugtai had completely misinterpreted Richard’s intended direction for their conversation.

 

“Like, I’m not disputing the fact that Gilfoyle knows stuff about potions that I do not,” Chugtai continued, “But there are plenty of facts I know that he has no idea about. Things between the two of us are balanced. Gilfoyle just enjoys pretending to know more than he does. I guess it’s nice of you to be concerned for me? Sort of? But it’s completely unnecessary. I know Gilfoyle well enough to see past his bullshit.”

 

“Huh,” Richard said noncommittally. _Note to self: Chugtai is incredibly self-absorbed._ _In the future, don’t_ _go to him for advice._

 

**

 

Chugtai left the technical meeting early to attend the Arithmancy Club. Richard and Gilfoyle sat on opposite sides of their desk, working in silence. But without Chugtai, Gilfoyle wasn’t nearly as productive. He absentmindedly moved his ring up and down his finger.

 

Against his better judgment, Richard decided to ask Gilfoyle for advice. It wasn’t as if their conversation could be any worse than the conversation with Jared. Or Chugtai, for that matter.

 

“Hey Gilfoyle. Can I ask you something?”

 

“You just did,” Gilfoyle said automatically, not making eye contact with Richard.

 

Richard felt an odd sense of deja vu. “No. Something else.”

 

“Go for it,” he said flatly, still not looking up from his ring.

 

“It’s hard to describe exactly what I mean,” Richard said hesitantly. “But do you ever feel dumb? And useless? Even though you thought you were really good at something?”

 

Gilfoyle paused, then looked at him. “Just to be clear—we’re talking about you, right?”

 

Richard squirmed. Gilfoyle’s intense gaze was slightly intimidating. “Y-yeah. I suppose.”

 

“Look, man, I’ll be honest with you. I more or less understand the outside mechanism of the potion. But I know fuck all about how the Core works. Same with Dinesh. Sure, the Core is only 10% of the potion, but it’s the most important 10%. It’s unique and creative. Dinesh and I couldn’t have figured it out on our own. Essentially, it’s a work of genius. And I don’t use that word lightly. Yes, Dinesh and I know more brewing tricks, but you are the creative powerhouse of the three of us. We need you, Richard.”

 

“Really? Richard breathed.

 

Gilfoyle snorted. “No, I’m being nice to you for fun. Yes, really.”

 

Richard felt himself smiling. Genuinely smiling. “Thanks. That means a lot, coming from you.”

 

“Don’t break an arm jerking yourself off,” Gilfoyle muttered.

 

**

 

The next day, they had Potions. Richard sat down at his and Jared’s desk and greeted his potions partner warmly.

 

“You seem more upbeat,” Jared remarked. “Did you think about what I said yesterday?”

 

“Sort of,” Richard said, not ready to admit to himself—let alone anybody else—that it had been Gilfoyle of all people who managed to cheer him up. “What matters is that I feel better, and I’m ready to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? I hope you didn't mind the slightly more serious tone. It's just for this chapter, not a permanent change. :)))


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